


my blood is singing with your voice

by growlery



Series: I will guide you in the night [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Vampires, Werewolves, Women Being Awesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-22
Updated: 2012-09-22
Packaged: 2017-11-14 19:43:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/518843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/growlery/pseuds/growlery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>And maybe Elena is right to fear such things, but Mithian doesn’t. Mithian knows her better than that. </i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	my blood is singing with your voice

**Author's Note:**

> Fits in waaaaaay before keep it steady chronologically, before they even find Freya, and is even less compliant with Being Human canon than that is. Title is from Howl by Florence and the Machine because it might be cliché but it _fits_.

The first time Elena locks herself in the basement of their new house, Mithian puts a pillow over her head and burrows into the bed and recites the alphabet backwards to block out the sound of Elena howling. 

It’s no use. 

(Mithian used to love the heightened senses that come with vampirism, but what she thought of as a gift is now nothing of the sort.)

The second time, she makes her excuses and leaves as soon as she can but even sixty miles away in Morgana’s guest bedroom she can hear Elena, lonely and mournful and _hurting_ , and the sound claws at Mithian’s chest. 

The third time, she gets a key made. 

~

Mithian waits until moonrise, until she can hear Elena’s bones cracking and reforming, the soft whimpers which precede the howl. Mithian waits, and when she is sure Elena has shifted she unlocks the door to the basement and walks soundlessly down the steps into the dark. 

The whimpers cut off instantly. Mithian swallows hard but stays where she is, at the bottom of the stairs with her arms folded across her chest. Elena thinks she’d hurt Mithian, thinks the wolf would tear her to pieces without a second’s thought, and maybe Elena is right to fear such things. 

Mithian doesn’t. Mithian knows her better than that. 

Mithian tips her head up, a blatant challenge, and doesn’t quake when she hears the wolf growl. 

“You will not harm me,” Mithian says, her voice entirely steady, “you will _not_.”

She stands her ground, even when the wolf pads up to her on its hind legs, a parody of a human walk, and sniffs her all over. It’s so close she can feel the warmth radiating from its body, its breath hot on her skin, its fur tickling her bare legs. 

The wolf pauses on her face, mouth slightly parted. Mithian stares back at it, and something flickers in its eyes before it leans forward – and if Mithian had a heartbeat, it would stop – and licks a stripe down Mithian’s cheek. 

Mithian exhales. 

~

They curl up in the corner, Mithian leaning back against the brick and the wolf – _Elena_ – with her head in Mithian’s lap. Mithian cards a hand through Elena’s fur, marvelling at the softness of it, the sleek slide of it through her fingers. Elena is quiet and pliant and loose – submissive, Mithian thinks, and suppresses a shiver – but the strength of her is still obvious, the muscles under her skin firm and defined. 

Elena whines, a pained little noise, but it is nothing like the howl from before. Mithian digs her fingers in, feels Elena tense underneath her for just a second, and then relax. 

“Good girl,” Mithian whispers, and smiles.

~

Mithian expected Elena to be angry when she came back to herself the next morning. 

Mithian wasn’t expecting _this_ , the fury blazing in every corner of Elena’s face, the tight knots of tension threaded through Elena’s very flushed, very naked body. Mithian’s having trouble knowing where to look; that, she hadn’t expected. 

“What the fuck,” Elena says, and her voice is shaking, “what the actual _fuck_.”

“Elena-”

“No,” Elena says, shaking her head violently, “no, no, you don’t get to be all calm and placating when I could have fucking _killed you_ last night. What the fuck were you thinking?”

“I was thinking,” Mithian says, evenly, “that I didn’t want to have to listen to you in pain all night when I knew I could help.”

“I didn’t need your help,” Elena snarls. “I’m fine, I-”

“You’re not fine,” Mithian says, because anyone can see that. “You’re lonely. You need a pack.”

“I’m _fine_ ,” Elena repeats, her voice cracking. “Mithian. I don’t- I’ve got you, I don’t need-”

“I’m not enough,” Mithian says, and doesn’t flinch. Elena does, though, and Mithian aches to touch her, to stroke away the fear rising in her face, but she doesn’t think that would be entirely appropriate right now. “You need to be with people like you.”

Elena steps forward, and Mithian’s eyes dart downwards for just a moment. “Mithian,” she says, softly, and takes Mithian’s face in her hands. 

Mithian inhales a breath she doesn’t need, and another, and another, and Elena pulls her forward and presses a kiss to her forehead.


End file.
